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Diva Las Vegas? Come on …

Someone, please explain the appeal of Celine Dion. While you’re at it, convince me that she is to Las Vegas in the 21st century what Elvis was to the Strip in the 1960’s/70’s. And then, try to help me overcome my disgust with anyone who didn’t flinch while listening to Celine warbling through a Stevie Wonder cover, pondering her youth as a “nappy headed baby boy”.

Yes, I know she is the highest selling female artist of all time. But we all know that sales don’t prove you are any good, they just mean you are well marketed.

First off, and of course, these are only my opinions, she is NOT an entertainer. She’s not funny, she can’t dance, is not sexy, sensual or alluring. And the Mary Martin haircut doesn’t help, either. She looks like an anorexic Enya trying to be all things to all people – but she’s not Liza, Barbara, Aretha, Judy Garland, Frank Sinatra, Maria Callas or even Joel Grey. And she DEFINITELY isn’t Elvis. That comparison to me is insulting. She sounds particularly stupid trying to be funky. And I have never liked her over-the-top oh won’t someone hand me a torch caterwauling. Her voice, which I have NEVER liked, sounded thin, whiny and grating at its BEST in the live broadcast the other night.

And interestingly enough, she didn’t speak a word of French during her show’s US television debut. Wonder why? Are they serving Freedom Fries at Caesar’s Palace, too?

The Cirque de Soleil parts were of course overdone, as well. But that’s to be expected. To be honest, I also expected Celine to be one of the clowns onstage – and I was not disappointed. Three years and $95 million for that pile of crap show?

And you know what’s really irritating? No one, not a single reviewer of this monstrous catastrophe, seemed to be put off, bored and/or nauseated by the experience. Which means, of course, that I must be the only person in the world whose bullshit detector is still working properly.